“You eat half.”
“That’s quality control.”
The table filled with laughter.
Vanessa smiled too.
But tears gathered in her eyes.
She wasn’t really watching the jokes.
She was watching the rhythm.
The way the girls finished one another’s sentences.
The way I reached toward Sophie’s glass before she noticed it was empty.
The way Lily began gathering dishes.
The way Clara automatically wrapped leftover bread.
Nobody had created those habits overnight.
They were built across thousands of ordinary evenings.
“I THOUGHT MONEY COULD FIX IT.”
After dinner, Vanessa helped carry dishes into the kitchen.
She stood beside me at the sink.
Then whispered:
“I really thought…”
I waited.
“If I came back with enough money…”
Her voice broke.
“…I could give them everything I wasn’t able to give before.”
I dried one plate.
Then said:
“Childhood doesn’t wait for anybody.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
